Ignorance Is Bliss
by Banisters
Summary: See no evil.


Among the asphalt and jungle gyms of the playground at St. John's Grade School, three young boys sat. They were ordinary children, with the same motives as generations passed and generations to come. Like other boys, they played rough and talked dirty. All of them were approximately the same age, though they varied in looks and personality. But what made them different from most eleven year olds was their bond. Regardless of the few similarities they shared with one another, they possessed the same relationship seen between brothers.

The first boy, who happened to be the smallest, was the most eager of the three. His enthusiasm for the world around him knew no bounds, and he always tackled problems with a positive attitude. As for looks, he was quite average, and maybe even handsome in the eyes of some. Brown strands of hair that had never been properly introduced to a comb stuck out of his head from infinite angles. With the exception of his hair, the boy was otherwise tidy. His shirt was tucked in every day and his olive skin was always free of smudges of dirt.

To his left sat another boy. He was taller and thinner than the two. He carried himself with an unspoken authority and frowned when he spoke. The two hazel eyes that stared out from his pale face had a peculiar coldness to them. Though he was diligent in his studies, the same could not be said for his social skills. He had few friends, but even those who were merely acquaintances of the boy held respect for him.

The last boy was largest of his comrades, though not fat. He grew bored with things very quickly, including conversations. Listening was not something prided himself in, and he often expanded his imagination while pretending to pay attention. He enjoyed telling stories, even though he never seemed to finish them.

"Did you see the new kid?" asked Duncan, the boy with the messy hair.

"You mean _that one_?" sneered William, the anti-social. He pointed his thumb towards the bench to his right. On the planks that made up the bench sat a rather lonely looking adolescent. With his light blond hair, tan complexion, and strong features, he was an attractive boy. He was about a year older than the three who had just mentioned him. From his appearance, one would have expected him to be very popular, especially with his female classmates, but no one dared approach him.

"I heard he's loony," said Andrew, the final boy. "A complete basket case and all that."

William grinned and his nasty hazel eyes shined brightly. Nothing made him happier than rumors. Andrew, on the other hand, had little interest in listening to gossip. He preferred to create it.

"His father's in the Navy," continued Andrew. "And he's traveled all over Britain. He's been _everywhere._ Apparently he has some obsession with shells, too."

"_Shells?_" said Duncan. He looked over to the blond boy and back to his friends. "He sure doesn't seem like the type who'd like_ pretty little shells_."

"But he _does_ look loony. See how he keeps shifting his eyes?" William sniggered. His laugh caught the gaze of the boy on the bench. William glared at him for a moment before returning to face Andrew. "He looks like a _criminal_ or something."

A chorus of laughs rang out between the boys.

"Why don't we go talk to him?" suggested Duncan. He didn't see any harm in doing so, although the same couldn't be said for William, who let out a groan. Whether or not he wanted to join his friends, Andrew pepped him up with a grin. They stood in synchronization and walked over to the bench, Duncan leading the way.

"Hullo," said the obvious leader.

"Hullo," parroted the new kid.

"I'm Duncan."

"Ah."

There was an awkward silence amidst the males. As always, the brunette was expected to carry on with the chat.

"So," he began again. "Where are you from?"

"Here," said the boy.

"_Oh_?" countered William. "Then how come we've never _seen _you before?"

"I was away for awhile."

"When? During the evacuation?" inquired Andrew. Of course, no sooner than he'd asked the question, he pretty much answered it himself. "I knew this one girl whose family waited _two whole months_ before letting her come back to school. They were very scared after the war. That happened to you, didn't it? My parents, of course, weren't frightened. After all, it wasn't even worth it, being afraid, I mean. Things cleared up within a few days of the evacuation. My uncle says it was a big waste of money, buying all those planes and such."

"Your uncle says a lot of things," said William.

Duncan ignored his two followers.

"Where did you go while you were away?"

"Somewhere…very unpleasant," said the blond, pausing to conjure his words.

Andrew's face lit up.

"Unpleasant? Were there soldiers from another country there? I bet you were forced to do hard labor. Yeah, you _must_ have been. Every single day, you worked your tail off and only got a slice of bread to eat. And you slept on a cot with ten other children and you were cold all of the time. Right? I'm right, aren't I?"

"No," answered the blond very quietly.

"Your parents are probably just _sissies_ and didn't want you coming back to school. Ha, I bet your parents are supporters of the new prime minister!" said William. He then put on his best impression of the man he'd assumed the new kid's parents admired. "_Oh no, I'll prevent any wars from _ever_ happening again! I'm going to try and become better friends with _America! _I'm the prime minister!_ He's a blasted _idiot_, if you want my opinion."

"We _don't_ want your opinion," growled Duncan. He focused on the boy before him. "What was so unpleasant about your getaway?"

The boy sighed.

"I met a lot of bad people, and the good ones I met…well…I won't be seeing them again. I saw and did many things I wish I hadn't. I came face to face with fear…and myself."

William scowled.

"That doesn't _seem_ very horrid. Heck, that doesn't even make _sense_!"

"I liked my version _better_," whined Andrew.

And without even a goodbye, the three companions turned and left the blond to his own devices. They palavered at an incredible pace, babbling over every single bad quirk they observed in their new peer.

"He's so _batty_."

"What kind of kid _talks like that?_"

"I'm _telling_ you, his parents _like_ the prime minister!"

"What's so unpleasant about not _seeing_ somebody for a little while?"

"_Yeah!_"

"_He's overreacting_!"

"Did you hear that? He practically said he was afraid of _himself!_"

"Pfft…like he knows _anything_ about fear!"

Their talk was brought to a halt by the recess bell. As they walked inside, Duncan whirled around suddenly, as if he'd forgotten something.

"Hey!" he shouted to the blond boy, who had left his position on the bench. "What's your name?"

"Ralph."


End file.
